


Just For Tonight

by kyloewok



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cunnilingus, Degradation, Drug Use, Exhibitionism, F/M, Face-Fucking, Face-Sitting, Forced Orgasm, Free Use, Marijuana, One Night Stands, Overstimulation, Praise Kink, Spanking, Threesome, biker!AU, dangerous driving, spitting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:20:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29491209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyloewok/pseuds/kyloewok
Summary: After meeting a pair of burley, formidable men at the bar— Kylo Ren and his best friend, Vicrul— you comply to a one night stand, that involves thrilling motorcycle rides, top-tier weed, and a "play date" with two small town gangsters that terrorize the streets.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Reader, Vicrul (Star Wars)/Reader
Kudos: 18





	Just For Tonight

The ear-piercing squeak of a microphone belching ricochets around the outside of the bar. You grimace, briskly shoving the doors open and shuffling inside. A local Indie rock band, that originated from the Bronx, was performing an alternative rock song. Streaming robustly on their guitars, gliding around the stage giddily in their scuffed-up Converse. 

You hummed to the classic tune, Smells Like Teen Spirit, by Nirvana, smoothing down your short, plaid, fringy skirt. They were doing a remarkable job at revamping the song as their own. A supple smile lingers on your lips as you watch them wilt-away with pure confidence. 

The bar was flooded with the rich, musky, earthy scents of colognes. The torrid foyer was filled to the brim with smelly, burley, greasy men. There was a gang collecting and deliberating in the back of the worn-down, grimy bar. They were ironically clad in nearly transparent tank tops that clung onto their beer-bellies and accentuated their muscles, chugging down cheap Coors-lights.

Your eyes raked over the crowd, drifting along, merely obtaining a glance from a single occupant of the bar. That is, before your eyes sweep over a brawny, black-garbed man. His ravenous hazel eyes peered back at you, an enigmatic smirk touching his plush lips.

He was formidable and broadly-built, with coiled black tendrils of hair, that framed his brooding face. Middle-parted and slicked with a thin coat of sheeny gel. Inklings of ornate tattoos swathed the muscles of his arms, peppering his monstrous, veiny hands. There was a black-spade embroidered into the satin skin beneath his left, honey-speckled eye. 

He lethargically propped his elbow up on the counter of the mainstream-bar, looming forward, revealing another man that was perched in the rigidity barstool adjacent to him. He was clad in a Harley-Davidson leather jacket, with the patches and emblems of his cynical tributes encompassing the back, and circling his brawny arms. 

Tattoos were loitering all along his olive skin, swirls and twines of pure black ink crawling up his veiny, clammy neck. His shaggy, fluffy hair was a sandy-hued brown, and his eyes, were a ravishing emerald green, as he peered down at his churning glass of whiskey. 

The first man reeked of flamboyance. It was radiating off of him in tactile waves, when your enthralled gazes locked from across the rumbling, dynamic dance floor, where intoxicated crowds clamored around like pathetic imbeciles. Partying and withering away with each tequila-shot they poured down their unsuspecting throats.

The boisterous volume of the music caused your brain to swell. You squint your eyes to adjust to the flickering, coruscating-lights that illuminated the dance floor with its vibrant, colorful wrath. 

You harbored your breath in your lungs, studying the man, as he nudged his grueling companion with a prudent smirk, cocking his head towards you. Those emerald green eyes followed the direction of the mans quarrying stare, and he smirked just as diabolically.

You cracked a soft, coy smile back, nibbling on your bottom lip— which was sheeny with a scarlet layer of lipgloss. 

They murmured to one another, exchanging dauntless glances. The raven-haired man grinned at you malevolently, beckoning you with the leisure, taunting flicks of his middle and forefinger.

Aspiration was guiding you through the compact crowd, carrying your chary, feather-light footing through the mob of blubbering socialites and giddy strangers. 

"Hey, boys." You beamed gingerly, addressing them with a small smile. 

"Hey." Both of them mused at once through alcohol strained breaths, as the ghost of a grin tugged at the raven-haired mans plump lips. He scrutinized you from head to toe.

The other man gulped down a quick-swig of whiskey, swirling the bronze, acidic liquid around in his glass, observing you in his peripherals. 

"I'm Kylo." The raven-haired man muttered, swiveling in his chair and gesturing towards the other man. "This is Vicrul." 

Vicrul acknowledged you by grinning sinfully into the rim of his glass, nodding curtly at you. The blood rushed to your cheeks, painting them a sheepish crimson. 

"Take a seat, relax for a little while, sweetheart." Kylo insists, his voice grainy and lecherous, like a feigned coo. 

"Yeah, let us buy you a drink, dollface." Vicrul slurs, grinning at you lewdly.

"Alright." You flash them a sultry smile.

Kylo pats his lap in a subtle gesture for you to acquaint yourself there. You sheepishly climb into his lap, wriggling to situate yourself, feeling his muscular arm loop around your waist to secure you. 

Time ticked by briskly, as you downed shots, allowing Vicrul to feed you sips of his whiskey, as both of them planted tender, provocative touches upon your skin. Kylo kneaded your hipbones, pressing pliant kisses to your neck, smirking into the flesh as you giggled. 

Vicrul was caressing your thigh, fueling the libido that was festering in your core, eyeing you with a look that could only translate to all things salacious and seductive.

Kylo's hand slithered down your inner thigh, creeping past the fringe hem of your skirt, teasing near your entrance. "Come back to our place." He purrs into your ear, kneading your thigh, as you whimper and nod. 

Vicrul smirks, chugging down the remnants of his whiskey, consuming every last scorching drop. He hops off of the barstool flagrantly, adjusting the collar of his leather jacket, flexing his neck, as you abide by their movements and slip off of Kylo's lap.

You file through the crowd together, determined, eager, rushing to the entrance to escape the torridness of the bar. Kylo propped the door open with his combat boot, smirking down at you, as you scramble through and mutter a meek "thank you." 

The air smelt of alcoholic concoctions, that eloped with the fresh scent of the summers precious Marigolds and brewing storms. The clouds rolled in like a downcasting, gloomy gray, harboring the rain that would soon spew from the skies drab abyss. The breeze tickled your cheeks, as it conveyed the scent of the towns old-fashioned pizza shop. 

Vicrul shucked off his leather coat, lips coiled into a lingering grin, as he draped it over your shoulders, letting his palms grope there for a moment, before releasing his hands from you and shoving them into the pockets of his loose-fitting blue jeans. 

"Thanks." You chirp bashfully, biting your lip, smiling. He permits you with a curt nod. 

They guide you down the street, the heavy thuds of their boots pounding bleakly into the cement, sending shivers ricocheting up your legs. You were escorted to the corner of a quaint street, at the edge of the strip-mall sort of ordeal, where two motorcycles laid parked and propped on glistening stands. 

The neatly-polished surfaces reverberated the pale moonlight, as it seeped from the caverns and craters of the glowing white orb floating in the dark sky. The reflective jet blacks of the motorcycles main functions were paired with accents of spotless silver. The rims were freshly painted, and the earthy scents of their colognes were embedded into the leather seats. 

"Come." Kylo beckoned stoically, straddling the seat of his motorcycle, popping a cigarette into his mouth and observing you expectantly.

His long legs that housed crisp black jeans were planted on each side of his motorcycle, as he lit his cigarette briskly, lips pinching the slender white stick as the tip gleamed auburn. White tendrils of smoke billowed around his romanesque face, as he cocked a brow. 

You staggered to oblige, stepping off of the platform sidewalk, hopping onto the back of his motorcycle as he sits and allows your hands to stably loop around his broad torso. He grunts in approval, using his leg to haul the motorcycle straight, kicking the peg stand. His hands curled around the ignition, the engine roared and sputtered, uniting with Vicrul's as it rumbled to life behind you.

He wasted no time— before throttling the gas, sending the motorcycle pummeling down the fairly-empty road, as you squeak and cling onto his frame tighter. Watching through squinted eyes, as the bright city lights wisp by and flicker exuberantly. 

Vicrul chanted gruff words, laughing hoarsely, as he swerved past you and Kylo, racing down the street at maximum speed. The gritty roar of the engine echoed around the vacant town, as you chuckled, listening to Kylo growl out pretentious slurs, picking up his pace, speeding past Vicrul. You stick your tongue out at him provocatively, scrunching your nose, freeing one arm from Kylo's body and waving it victoriously in the air.

Kylo chuckled hoarsely at you, revving the engine, darting in front of Vicrul and cutting him off. The cold wind was stinging your cheeks, as you tucked your boots under the footrests and stood at half-mass, both arms flinging in the air and embracing the rush of adrenaline that tingled in all of your drunken limbs. Devouring the musky cologne that radiates off of his body and wafts into your face with the forceful breeze. 

Your hands plummeted onto Kylo's bulky shoulders, kneading, as you giggled and sealed your eyes shut. Feeling the blissful collision of the breeze smacking into your face and fanning out your unruly hair, basking beneath the dim streetlights that fly by in quick spurts.

Eventually, you were maneuvering through a slummier neighborhood that was attached to the towns main bypass. The worn-down houses with peeling siding and junk scattered around the overgrown front yards beamed with lights, as the occupants inside the residents partied and indulged in drugs or any other crime that could be passed as excusable in a small, conservative town like yours.

Kylo jeers into a lot clustered with four other motorcycles, all parked unethically. It was a trap-house. Although grimy and disheveled on the outside, the inside was tidier, despite the piles of sweaty clothes speckled around the unpainted rooms. 

Vicrul sighs, trudging into the main room; where four men sit sprawled and nestled into the patchy couch, hollering and cursing at the television, munching on tortilla chips. The football game was blaring, the house reeked of pure marijuana, the thick fog hazing over the main room. Two glass bongs lined the sloppy coffee table, the residue of weed and crumpled napkins littering the wood surface.

Vicrul simply scooped up a blunt and lighter, conversing with them idly, as one of them interjects, "I just rolled that!" 

Kylo clucks his tongue, propping his forearm on the doorframe, keeping you imprisoned by his side with the hand curled around your waist. His features were unimpressed and lethargic, as he continued puffing on his shrinking cigarette. He dabs the flame out on the wall, tossing it into the ashtray on the coffee table, exhaling the remnants of smoke through the corner of his lips. 

"Whose the lady?" One of the men barked with a cocked brow, observing you through the haze of smoke that was clouding the room. 

"Fuck off." Kylo hisses, shooting them all a hostile glare, circling your wrist and guiding you through the threshold. 

He brought you into one of the bedrooms. It was pitch black, a blanket being utilized as a makeshift curtain draped over the window, blockading the moonlight. It smelled like cheap cigarettes and musty clothes, that were bunched in a pile on the floor. 

Vicrul sauntered into the bedroom, tossing the blunt to a clustered table, flicking on the lamp posted to the bedside. It filtered the room with a faint, dim, amber glow, barely illuminating the space. Posters were mounted to the wall, a tapestry dangling from the ceiling. 

You flopped back first into the unmade bed, rolling around in the sheets, as the two of them murmured obscenities to one another, watching you. Kylo smirked, looming over you, planting his hands to both sides of your squirming head. 

Your eyes locked, and your breath hitched, as those glossy golden eyes bored through yours. He lowered his mouth to yours at a tantalizing speed, slow and evenly paced. You arched your back and delved your lips into his, as he kissed you at a steady, patient speed, devouring the taste of your alcohol-stained lips. 

He grinds his clothed, hard length into you, and you moaned into his mouth, allowing his tongue access past your lips. Disregarding Vicrul, as he rounds the bed, and situated himself on his back in the center. 

He started to palm his bulge, as he watched you breathlessly meet the intensifying kiss. You loosely wrap your arms around the nape of Kylo's neck, fingers threading through his dark main, lips latched and synchronizing. 

He broke free from the kiss, peppering a few sloppy pecks to your jaw, lips trailing to your ear. "Let us take care of you tonight." He whispers huskily, caressing your earlobe with his long nose. 

You nod, breaths labored, as he rewards you with one last kiss to the lips. He peels away from your body, lugging you up to be sitting. First, Vicrul's hands caress your back, feathering with your hair, brushing it to the side. He presses warm, pliant kisses to your pulse, and you mewl, as Kylo's hands slither up your thighs at the same time.

His fingers loop around the waistline of your lace panties. His eyes were level with yours, as yours flutter in response to the tenderness of Vicrul's lips on your throat. He pulled them down leisurely, kneeling as he dragged them down your legs. They pooled at your ankles, and he gingerly collected them, tucking them into his back pocket.

When he ascended back to his full, towering height, Vicrul's lips disengaged from your neck, and he laid flat on his back. 

"You're going to sit on his face." Kylo instructs, his voice dropping a few octaves, dripping with desire.

A warmth stimulated in your cunt, as you nodded, preparing to whip around to climb onto Vicrul— only for Kylo's hand to snatch up your jaw. "And you're going to respond with "Yes, sir" when instructed to do something. Do you understand, bunny?" 

You shudder, feeling wetness pool at your entrance from the mere demand. "Yes, sir." You breathe, words shaky, as he nods in approval and releases your chin. 

You twirl around, hips wriggling, as you crawl over to Vicrul. His smirk merely faded, as he beamed up at you, eyes landing straight on your pussy when you straddled his face. His hands grappled with your hips, lowering you down to his face. You gasped when his warm tongue licked a stripe up your folds. 

He hummed in satisfaction with the taste of your pussy, tongue licking and prying at your folds, lapping your wetness from your entrance. Your chin quivered, as you let out a hitched breath, sinking down, your hips rocking slightly to shift your pelvis deeper into his face. You skirt was draped over his face, swaying with your hesitant movements.

Kylo groaned, palming his bulge vigorously through his pants, eyeing you similarly to how a predator would scout out its vulnerable prey. Hungry, prowling to feast.

With each second, a carnal need harvests in your core, and you start to grind into his face, moaning softly, as his tongue went to town on your pussy, swirling and thrusting into your entrance, curling in purely skilled ways. 

You heard the clank of Kylo's belt colliding into the floor. Your hand was bracing the headboard, as you snapped your pelvis into Vicrul's face, his content groans muffled into your pussy as his hands glide up and down your waist, guiding you into his face.

You could hear the aggressive fap of Kylo's hand pumping his cock, as he seethed through gritted teeth, and smeared the precum around his throbbing dick. Jerking himself roughly, obtaining all of your little breath hitches and wanton moans, as you rode Vicrul's face with a lewd blush tainting your cheeks and agape lips, white knuckling the creaky bed frame.

Vicrul's lips sealed around your aching bud and you rutted into him, squeaking, a strained moan exhaling from your lips, as your neck craned back, and a lascivious warmth plateaued in your core. He suckled with determination, his hips bucking into the air, as he purred into your pussy, licking and sucking harder, enjoying the way you completely smothered him. 

"I'm going to cum, sir..." You whine, rocking your pelvis faster, breathy moans escaping your lips as you teeter towards the edge. 

"Do it. Cum on his fucking face, slut." Kylo growls, fisting himself harder, as you succumb to your release and tremble on top of Vicrul's face, choking on your moan, legs shaking, as he drinks in all of the juices that leak and spew from your core, drizzling down his face and pooling on his tongue, that laps at your entrance to collect your cum. 

You breathlessly lift your hips up to allow Vicrul air, as he pants, craning his neck to kiss your glistening thighs, that were quivering with your orgasm. "You taste so sweet..." He purrs, licking his sheeny lips clean, your juices beading on his chin.

He slides out from underneath you, situating himself in front of you, working on his belt as you peer up at him in bewilderment— dazed from the euphoric elements of your powerful orgasm. The mattress dipped behind you, and you swallowed, as you turned to see Kylo joining you on the bed. 

His pulsating, red, sticky cock was hard and nearing your behind. You choke on a whimper when the hot tip connects with your entrance, smearing your wetness up and down your folds. When you turn back around, you yelp, as Vicrul's dick throbs only inches away from your clammy face. 

"You're so wet for us, bunny..." Kylo coos through barred teeth. His hand collides with your ass in a harsh, unprecedented spank. You rock forward, shuddering when Vicrul's tip brushed your cheek, precum drizzling onto your skin as he grunts softly at the impact.

"Aren't you?" Vicrul adds, voice dark and lustful, as Kylo kneads the welt surfacing in your ass and supplies you another spank. 

"Yes, sir." You croak out, gulping, as he scoffs and pets your hair. There was inclination blooming in his jade eyes. 

"Good girl." He murmurs rewardingly. "Now open that pretty mouth up." 

You oblige, jaw unhinging, mouth popping open. He spits down at you and you flinched, as his saliva seeps down your tongue, the taste of whiskey prominent. He guides the head of his cock past your lips, exhaling heftily from his nose, as you sealed your mouth around the tip, tongue flicking his sensitive spot.

Kylo's dick then sheathed your entrance, and you raked in a heap of air through your nose, clawing at the sheets. He expanded and stretched your walls, hissing in pleasure, as you moaned in agony around Vicrul's throbbing cock, that he started to forcefully thrust down your throat. 

You thought that they would at least allow you to adapt to a rhythm.

You were ultimately wrong.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you struggle to accommodate to Kylo's huge girth— that was pounding into you ruthlessly from behind, his cock drilling into your core, plowing into your cervix, as you choke and blubber around Vicrul's dick, while he fucked your face mercilessly. 

You bobbed into the thrusts of his shaft, the veins protruding and gliding against your tongue as you hallowed out your cheeks and expanded your mouth to its full capacity to suckle on every inch of his cock that you could take, moaning and whimpering around his girth, as Kylo's pumped into you savagely. 

"You dirty little whore." He rasps, cock lodged into your pussy, pounding, plucking, eliciting shrilly whines and gurgled moans from you, as he guided your hips back with his robust movements. "You love having his cock in your mouth, as I fuck this filthy little cunt, don't you, bunny?" 

His calloused, tattooed fingers loop around your waist, snake down your mound, and rub your needy clit, that was stiff and buzzing with overstimulation. You gasp, gagging on Vicrul's cock, causing him to grunt as the vibrations of your shaky moan ricochet throughout his dick.

You tried to render him some sort of response. Your words only came out as broken, raspy grumbles, instead. He was not satisfied. He fisted a clump of your hair, hauling you back, yanking your mouth away from Vicrul's cock, forcing your back to collide with his brawny chest, as he continued to fuck you brutally, lewdly, your boisterous moans bleeding through the thick, venereal air. 

"F-fuck, y-yes, sir." Your mewl was strained, as you hiccuped on your breath and racked with each thrust he pounded into your core.

"Good." He purred. "That's a good little girl." 

You squeal and he releases you, sending you plummeting forward into the mattress, breasts slamming into the crinkled sheets. Vicrul wasted no time grasping your jaw and forcing his cock back down your throat. 

His cock was swollen, leaking precum down your throat, as he nearly reaches his peak upon the reacquaintance of your warm mouth. Kylo rubbed and circled your clit harder, faster, fingers drenched in your wetness, as you teeter towards your second exhilarating climax of the night. Your eyebrows pinch together, and your nails rake down the sheets, clawing for stability, as that warmth festers in your abdomen. 

You clench and pulse around Kylo's big cock, and he seethes, fingertips indenting bruises into your hipbones, as his dick plucks into that tender spot, precisely rocking, rolling, and smashing into it. 

"I can feel you, bunny." Kylo growls, appointing you with a glower, applying another stinging, rough spank across your ass. It was forceful enough to blister your flesh, and give you whiplash. "Cum on my cock." 

Hazed and befuddled with your appending orgasm, you nod feverishly, your body convulsing, limbs spasming, as Vicrul hits his peak only a second later. Cupping your skull, plowing into you, his hot seed shooting down your throat, as tears of overstimulation stream down your buzzing cheeks.

Vicrul eased his cock out of your mouth, a ribbon of saliva stringing along the tip and connecting to your lips. You pant, sucking in the drool that was dribbling from the corners of your swollen mouth. Kylo's cock was wedged into you, moving methodically, slowly, as all three of you recover from your orgasms.

Vicrul tucked himself away, stroking your hair gingerly, smirking as he caught his breath and watched you sheepishly smush your face into the sweat-soaked sheets. He hopped off of the bed with a grunt, scooping up the blunt he tossed onto his nightstand. 

He housed the futilely-rolled blunt between two fingers, lighting it briskly, taking a lengthy drag. He hummed contently as he exhaled the thick vapor, the scent of cannabis filtering the air, as Kylo slipped out of you and aided you in flipping over onto your back. 

"Pass it over." Kylo demanded him, words breathy and husky, as he propped himself between your legs and outstretched his arm to reach for the blunt.

Vicrul sighs, taking another nimble hit, before passing it over to Kylo and adjusting his clothing back to decency. "I'm gonna go watch the game." He says, eyebrows weaving together, as you both nod swiftly in response, disregarding him as he sauntered out of the bedroom and clicked the door shut behind him.

Holding the blunt, Kylo manages to multitask and strip you bare of your clothing. Shucking your skirt, skimpy top and undergarments onto the floor in one heedless pile.

Kylo puffs on the blunt, his burley arms curling around your thighs, hoisting your legs over his shoulders. The blunt was pinched between two of his long fingers, as he harbored his breath in his lungs, before looming over your pussy, exhaling the vapor right onto your dripping cunt. You squirm and whimper, as his weed-embraced breath wafts into your overstimulated clit.

He chuckled, the noise just a gruff rumble in the back of his chest, as he extends his arm to hold the blunt to your lips. You inhale deeply, moaning around the blunt when his tongue swipes along your wet folds. You exhale the smoke in jagged spurts, breath hitching, as he starts to navigate your pussy with his tongue. The blunt billowed thick, ivory smoke through the air, as the edge rested on your outer thigh, his mouth exploring your cunt eagerly.

"Fuck—" You chirp out, eyebrows knitted, lips agape, as he thrusts his tongue into you manically, his free fingers digging and prying at your clit, rubbing rough and agilely. 

After having two orgasms already, it only took a few more plucks and swirls of his tongue for you to reach your third peak, feeling completely discombobulated and gutted from the inside-out, moaning and writhing against him, as you squirt juices all over his face.

He growls contently, lapping up all your wetness, swiping his tongue across his chin to gather it all. His face was ruby and glistening with your juices as he jutted his chin over your thigh to reach the blunt, his lips sealing around it and raking in a shaky heap of smoke.

He reaches up to your face, still embracing your thighs with his broad arms, legs draped over his shoulders, as he levels his mouth with yours. He exhales the oxidizing smoke into your lips, as your tongues intertwine and lips delve into one another's. Your fingers skimmed through his wavy hair, and he groaned, your mouths battling to store the smoke.

Your lips released with an audible, sticky smack. You panted, smiling drearily at him, toying with the tips of his raven hair.

He smirked mischievously back, lowering himself back down to your pussy. "One more, bunny." He mumbles mundanely. You shiver, nodding, hoping that you can handle another orgasm without blacking out.

His lips smashed into your cunt again, tongue thrusting and lapping, slithering up to your clit, suckling, nibbling, devouring. Your fingers were feathering through his hair, guiding his face deeper into your pussy, as he dived in and soaked his own face with your juices, drinking in every ounce of arousel that seeped from your core.

You could feel yourself struggling to grapple onto decency, as you stifle your whimpers and moans, trying to suppress the agonizing warmth blossoming within. Trying to piece together your sanity, trying to avoid breaking down into a fit of sobs as you hit the tipping point. Your clit was rubbed and suckled raw, scorching with overstimulation, the pleasure building regardless.

"You're going to fucking cum for me." Kylo's husky voice demands into you, tongue stroking your clit in ethereal ways, that sent tremors throughout your overworked body. "Come on, bunny, Cum. Cum in my mouth." 

You shudder, whining, shaking your head in protest, piercing his scalp with your nails as your limbs quiver. He spanks your thigh, and you jolt in his grasp, gasping as he increases the speed of his skillful tongue.

"Cum for me. Don't hold back, baby. Cum." He purrs dauntingly. 

You buck your hips up into his face as you hit that precious peak, lights of pure lechery blinding your vision as you shrill out a string of slurred moans and tremble profusely, cumming all over his face for the second time.

He pulled away from your dripping, aching cunt with a satisfied smirk. Using his tongue to rid your juices off of his upper lip, taking a hit from the blunt, lifting your legs off of him and rolling onto his back. He sneaks up to your side, one arm wrapping around your waist, yanking you into his chest.

Your head rests on his laboring chest, that swells swiftly against your cheek, his heart drumming against your ear. His tattooed arm was holding you securely, his equally as tattooed hand gliding up and down your arm lethargically. He puckered in his lips as he inhaled another heap of smoke. 

You survey him through narrowed, fatigued eyes as he hallows out his cheeks and blows out hefty, ornate O shapes through the humid air. You snort, and he snickers, staring blankly at the ceiling, continuing to caress your arm. Blunt dangling from his plump lips. Eyes bloodshot and glossy with his appending high.

Instead of attempting to contemplate everything obscene that occurred in the past half an hour, you only nestled into the peculiarly comforting grasp of the burley mystery-man, basking in the scent of weed and stale alcohol.


End file.
